


Last Of Their Kind

by smallerluke



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Crisis Era, Hospitalization, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 10:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13122045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallerluke/pseuds/smallerluke
Summary: Soldier first. Man second.





	Last Of Their Kind

_Soldier first. Man second._

Reinhardt repeats the thoughts to himself as he holds a hand over a hole in this armor. Adrenaline buzzes in his skull, erasing his pain, narrowing his focus. The dropship is safety and it hovers like a dragonfly above the battlefield, a hundred meters and closing. Sparks fly against his shield. His hammer lies somewhere behind. For the moment, his weapons are his friends.

Eighty meters and closing. _Soldier first. Man second._

Metal gleams on a rooftop. Reinhardt twists in time to catch a sniper’s bullet. Ana returns fire and the sniper falls from the roof to the ground, landing in an unmoving heap.

Fifty meters and closing. The dropship lands and the door falls open.

“Get to cover,” he yells, “I have your backs!”

There’s no hope of winning this fight. They have to retreat and regroup. Too many Bastion units, too many Predators waiting inside the Omnium’s outer walls. Bad intel has led them here. He will get them out. Reinhardt keeps his eye on the approaching Bastions, three in turret form, six in sentry. Ana is still close behind him, firing precise shots into the robots.

At thirty meters, Jack breaks from behind his shield for the dropship, laying down covering fire. Ana follows after him at twenty meters. Gabriel sticks behind him, his pulse rifle singing.

His shield will break at ten meters. He knows the play. It’s a little close for comfort, but he’s survived worse odds. They all have. Reinhardt pulls his hand away from his side to signal to Gabriel to stay back.

“Shield’s about to go down,” he warns. He slides back. The Bastions are replacing their numbers faster than they can turn them to scrap. Torb’s turret, still in place by the gate, explodes in a shower of sparks. He curses over the comm.

“I’ve got you,” Gabriel says. His voice rings in his ear and close behind him. “Keep moving, big guy. We’ve got this.”

Gunfire sings against the dropship. He moves faster, angling to cover the line of fire. It leaves him open. He’ll have to turn and run for the door.

No matter. With the wound to his side, and his hammer lost, he is only a shield.

_Soldier first. Man second._

He has seconds left. Reinhardt reaches behind him and shoves Gabriel back. “Get to the ship, Commander! We have no time.”

His barrier fails. For a moment Reinhardt feels empty. All thoughts slam to a halt. Time trickles as sparks fly in front of his eyes, the beat of gunfire like rain.

-

Reinhardt wakes in a field hospital, his body heavy and his mind slow with painkillers.

He’s no stranger to this place. He knows how awful the food is, how cold the rooms get, how loud they can be. This one is silent and smells like bleach. Reinhardt shifts on the bed and groans. Pain catches up with him slowly, spreading up his side like fire.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, big guy.” Torb’s voice is soft and rough. Reinhardt lifts his head and sighs when a warm hand touches his cheek. “You’re doing just fine. Took a few slugs out there, that’s all.”

Reinhardt opens his mouth, but Torb shushes him.

“Everyone’s fine, so don’t even start worrying.” His smile is weak. Reinhardt knows what that means. Gabriel had been behind him when his shield dropped. Ten meters unprotected under a hail of fire was still trouble even for a super soldier.

His ribs tighten. Reinhardt focuses on the ceiling of the room. It’s plain white, recently painted.

“I’ve already got your armor patched up like new,” Torb says, “Was a real pain in the ass. Like it better when you don’t get shot up.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time. Would hate to make extra work for you.” His voice is weak and rough, but Torb says nothing about it, just laughs and shakes his head.

“You know I hate sitting around thinking when there’s something that can be done.”

His stomach sinks. They all know his mantra. They all know that each day could be their last.

Pain needles up his side. Rein leans back into his pillows, grimacing. He doesn’t wish for Torb to see his pain, but nothing gets past the man. The bed moves as Torb climbs up to sit at his side. His brown eyes are soft and clear, his smile steady.

“You’ve been out three days, you big oaf.” He chokes on the words, his smile fading. “Glad you’re back with us.”

“I’m sorry I worried you, my friend.” Reinhardt turns his hand over. Torb lets out a long, shuddering sigh before he decides to take it, rolling his eyes in the same moment.

“You’re such a sap.”

“Perhaps.”

Reinhardt closes his eyes. The bed is stiff and the linens are scratchy but his bones are heavy and he’s so tired he can’t muster the will to care.

He tightens his grip on Torb’s hand. It’s the only anchor he needs in such a cruel and uncertain world.

Torb lets go of his hand to lay beside him. Reinhardt doesn’t have the strength to move to make space, but Torb seems to manage fine and settles on his shoulder, a few day’s worth of stubble scratching against his skin.

His hand brushes over Reinhardt’s stomach, coming to rest over his wound. He smells like oil. Always does. Reinhardt tips his head to rest his chin against Torb’s fine blond hair. For a moment they lie in silence. Sleep pulls at his mind. It doesn’t feel like exhaustion. It feels like he’s still empty.

“You scared me.” Torb’s voice wavers, small and tight. “There’s no point in telling you to be careful out there, is there?”

“I will always protect us.” Reinhardt cracks open an eye. “Always.”

Torb lifts his head. His brown eyes are damp but he smiles, shakes his head. “For now, will you let us take care of _you_?”

Reinhardt chuckles. It aches but it feels good to laugh in the same moment, relief flowing through him. “I suppose,” he sighs, “I will accept a kiss in this trying time.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

“Some things never change, eh?” Torb pulls himself up to take Reinhardt’s face in his hands. His expression wavers. Reinhardt can’t read what’s behind those gentle eyes, not with his focus dulled by painkillers. But his hands are warm and when Torb kisses him his heart aches with happiness and relief.

“I love you, my lion.” Torb mumbles the words as he kisses him. Reinhardt barely has the strength to return the affection and lets out a happy rumble. Torb traces a thumb over his scar as he pulls away, a content smile on his face. “Brave and foolish as you are.”

 _Soldier first. Man second._ There may come a day when he doesn’t get to wake up with his best friend beside him. There may come a day when he’s too slow to protect one of his team. There may come a day when he is the last of their kind, just as he is the last crusader.

Right now, he is only a man.

**Author's Note:**

> So, right now I'm in a mood where I really love Reinhardt. I've wanted to write this ship for ages and it's about damn time! Short and sweet.  
> Thanks for reading ♥
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](https://skiesovertatooine.tumblr.com/)


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